


A Single Word That Rings True

by Lina_Love



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Blood, Suicide, don't come for me i was sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 12:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12607128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lina_Love/pseuds/Lina_Love
Summary: I wanted to write about Stan killing himself.  That is all.





	A Single Word That Rings True

All it took was one call. One call and Stan’s entire world seemed to crash around him. Fear blossomed in his stomach and roped around every part of him, squeezing until he couldn’t feel his breath anymore. He felt cold and warm at the same time. His lungs burned, but his throat felt frozen. He was almost choked up, but he couldn’t even cry.

All he knew in that moment was fear, and then emptiness. A numbness he’d never felt in his life.

There was no more Family Feud. There was no more wife searching for a hidden black button. There were no more fleeting thoughts of his inability to have a child.

There was nothing but It.

“I think I’ll take a bath.” Was the last thing he remembered saying to his wife as he left the living room and made his way to the bathroom.

There, he did something he’d never done before. He closed the bathroom door and clicked it locked. He turned on the bath and grabbed his package of Gillette Platinum Plus razor blades, setting them on the edge of the tub.

He didn’t quite know what he was doing, he still felt horribly numb. He just knew he didn’t have it in him to go up against that thing again. Childhood promises be damned, he was scared. More scared than he’d ever been, and he couldn’t do it.

No beer would make this problem better, no sweet talk with his wife, no finishing that book Bill had sent him. Nothing would save him. Just himself, and himself wasn’t good enough. It was either die here, in the comfort of his own home, or die facing that thing again.

His thoughts drifted to his wife for a moment. Wonderful Patty, the girl he had settled down with. She was good with him and even better for him. And he was good for her. He knew it was cowardly to leave her, and he knew it was even worse to do it without an explanation.

The two of them had been through so much. So many doubts from both her parents and his. "Don’t marry him," turned into, "Don’t start a business yet," to something peaceful. He was smart enough to have made it all work, he had built a life for himself alongside her, and even without the promise of little feet running through the house, it was still picture perfect for him.

Did he really want to give all of that up?

He had money, he had a house, he had someone who loved him dearly, and someone he loved back with all his heart. He _could_  survive. He _could_  defeat that thing again alongside his friends and come home to his wife and forget it ever happened.

Again.

Or he could die. He could have whatever it was latch onto his face again and suck him dry. He could watch his friends die. Even if they did win? Then what? Another 27 years later go back when he’s old and grey? When does it end?

It didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t, and he knew if he stayed alive the guilt of bailing on his friends would forever eat him alive. The alternative was even worse. It seemed that no matter which way he pieced it together in his mind, the outcome would be death or worse than death, even if he did live.

There really was no way out, not that Stan could see. He felt trapped, scared, and hopeless. Not even his logic could save him from this. The numbers would never add up to a favorable result.

So with a calm and even hand, he lifted one of the razors and slit up the length of his forearm, crossing the first cut to make a ‘T.’ He could feel the water helping to get the blood out of him, and he was already starting to feel dizzy. Still, he repeated the process on his opposite arm.

Even if his wife got to him in time, he knew there was no saving him.

As a final thought, a last message to the world from Stanley Uris would not be a suicide note. It would be one word, one that would ring true to his old friends when word got back to them. _If_  word got back to them.

‘It.’

Then, his hand slowly fell from the ‘T’ and landed back into the water.

The last thing he ever heard was the all too friendly jingle of Family Feud playing in the background. Then he drifted into eternal darkness.


End file.
